


It's In Your Genes.

by WaterySoup



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Cop AU, Gen, superhero au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6565573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterySoup/pseuds/WaterySoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome to Blood gulch, crown city of cities full of gang wars. Of another sort.<br/>All the criminals have supernatural powers.<br/>Mostly everyone who's not the police depend on the official, government sponsored organization 'Project Freelancer'.<br/>Project Freelancer was supposed to reduce the crime in the cities. You can guess how well that went.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's In Your Genes.

Deputy Leonard Church woke up to someone knocking on his front door. Knocking? No. It sounded like whoever was at the door was full-body ramming into it while saying ‘knock knocking’.

He opened his door. “Caboose, I'm awake what is i-”

He was cut off when Constable Caboose’s fist hit him on the chest. Hard.

“Caboose! Damnit, that fucking hurt! What do you want you idiot?”

Caboose froze, ready to knock on Church’s chest again.

Constable Michael j. Caboose was 6”5’, overly friendly, odd, and made of pure muscle. As he often was, he was dressed in his freshly cleaned uniform, early in the morning. Ready for his job.

It was nine o’ clock. Church was still in his bathrobe. He still hadn’t had any coffee. Hell, he hadn’t even shaved or brushed his teeth.

“Hello Church! Come to breakfast!” Said the young cop, bouncing on his heels. 

“What. No,” Church instantly responded, then inhaled sharply as Caboose finished;

“Tucker will be there! He is bringing Junior!”

Church squinted at the smiling kid, eyebrows knitting together. A few moments passed of him staring at Caboose’s stupidly smiling face, and Church decided he wasn’t lying.

“I’ll get dressed,” said the deputy, and stuck out a hand when Caboose tried to come in. This halted the man’s smile and movements. He froze, confused. “Stay in the livingroom. If Joe sits in your lap, tell him he’s a good kitty.”

While Church went into his room to get dressed, the dark-haired constable pet the fat orange cat, who purred happily to the friendly man. Joe had instantly plopped into his lap, so Caboose cooed softly to him.

When the older man returned to tell him they could go, Caboose was whispering words into Joe’s ear. The smile was gone from his face, but his eyes were obscured by his mop of hair. He looked as though he’d killed a man. His spine was curved as he was bent over to whisper, the syllables harsh on a voice Church hadn’t heard Caboose ever use when he was in the room.

“Caboose?” Church called softly, watching as the other’s face and body went through three whole different emotions. (Fear, tense, pulling him into a ball, then almost a split second later, confusion, twisting him too look at church, and immediately after, a pure-looking happiness. That didn’t reach his eyes for a few moments.)

“You okay?” He asked, putting a hand on the younger’s back. (He twitched almost imperceptibly away from him.) He straightened up from where he was half-laying on the couch, eyes going wide and innocent. He smiled at Church.

“Yes yes! Just telling spooky stories!”

Church frowned. Maybe the fear he’d seen wasn’t anything to worry about. After all, Caboose was scared of not very scary things. Like the goosebumps series. “I told you to tell him he was a good cat, not about a monster who eats your toes or something.”

Caboose apologized, nudging Joe out of his lap gently, as not to disturb the fluffy beast. Despite his attempt, Joe instantly leapt out of his lap with an upset ‘maiou!’ and pattered off somewhere. Caboose frowned after him and whisper-shouted “Sorry!”

Now the fresh uniform he was wearing was covered in little orange cat hairs, which he profusely tried to remove as they left to meet up with Tucker.

* * *

 

When they were only a few feet away from the cafe, a small child sprinted out through the doors and smack into Church’s legs, clinging to them tightly. This effectively froze him in place.

“Oh, hey, Junior,” Church said, patting the kid on the head.

“Hellogoodmorningwearehavingwaffles!” said the child in reply, looking up at the man with big doe eyes. They were full of admiration and sugar.

“Yeah, I can see that.” Church dragged Junior, who was still clinging to his leg, into the cafe. The three cops frequented this cafe in particular, as it happened to be in between all their houses and the police station. The back left corner was occupied by Lavernius Tucker, who waved at the two. The man’s mouth was full, and his plate was half-empty.

“TUCKER!” Caboose shouted, the other patrons of the cafe not even flinching. This was normal for them. “You were supposed to wait!” He stomped towards Tucker, who raised his hands defensively. He hurriedly swallowed what was in his mouth and grimaced.

“Hey look, the lady came, and Junior was complaining. You guys are  _ late _ .”

“You are evil, Tucker,” mumbled the young man. He sat next to tucker, though, and took his coffee. He downed it in two gulps. Tucker shook his head and looked at Church, who was putting Junior in the seat in between them.

“Though I guess it's your fault you guys are late?” Church gave him a glare. “Hey, look, it's not that hard to guess. You are  _ not  _ a morning person.”

“He only came because you were here,” chimed in caboose, trying to steal a strawberry off tucker’s plate, earning a smack on the hand. He gave Tucker puppy-dog eyes, but the other ignored it in favour of saying;

“Bow chicka-”

“Shut the fuck up, tucker,” Church broke in. He hoped Tucker wasn’t able to decipher the look on his face. “I haven't had my first coffee today yet.” Then, looking down into the eyes of the child sitting next to him, he said; “Don't say fuck, junior. You have to be at least eighteen for that. And it’s not even noon, who gave you sugar?”

Junior frowned at that, and gently forked the strawberries off his plate and into Caboose's hands. Caboose gobbled them up, smiling and chattering to the kid. (They were talking about dinosaurs and superheroes they liked, but when Junior mentioned the freelancers, Caboose looked less enthusiastic.)

Church looked directly at Tucker. “You shouldn’t give him so much sugar.”

“I just smacked him away from my strawberries, I’m  _ trying _ .”

“No, not Caboose, Junior, stupid.”

Tucker looked at Junior, who was practicing dinosaur noises with Caboose.

“But look at him. He’s so sweet, he needs it.”

The waitress arrived then, not letting Church respond, and the two new arrivals ordered their breakfasts.

* * *

 

 

After Church’s third cup of coffee, something exploded a block or two away.

The other patrons in the cafe screamed and fled, but with a mile-long stare, Church started his fourth cup. Caboose and Tucker both shot up and went to the cafe window. Smoke was rising along the street, scattered by the wind.

Caboose, being the only one in uniform, pulled out his radio and left. Tucker turned to see Church, alone in the cafe, sitting next to junior. Junior stared at his dad, looking scared. Church was halfway done with his fourth cup.

“Church, don't you think we should-” he stopped when Church raised his hand, and nodded. “I'll take junior to safety, then. Come on, buddy.”

Tucker picked up Junior and left the cafe, holding him close. Now Church was alone. He drank the last dregs of coffee, smacked his lips, and swore.

“God, I fucking hate coffee. Shitty bean water.”

He stood up, stole the strawberries off Tucker’s plate, and dropped twenty bucks on the table. He rolled his shoulders and groaned. It was too early for this.

“I hate this fucking job,” he said, and left the cafe onto the smoke-filled street.


End file.
